21 Days
by kitten4979
Summary: It'll be finished some day...
1. Day 01: Home

A/N - I've taken the old story and combined some chapters together (and added or subtracted some passages) so every day is chapter, instead of a character's point of view during the day. Otherwise, this was going to become a 50+ chapter epic. I might incorporate other points of views later on, but for now I'm going to stick to just Danny and Mary. Apologies I've apparently taken a very verbose style of writing and that's taken me two years to pick this back up. Hope you enjoy!

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**Thursday – late evening**

I wonder what my mother would be doing right now. She'd more than likely be at some seedy bar, drinking herself into oblivion or passed out in her car in front of the bar by now. Or maybe she would have made it to our couch or her bed. Or maybe, just maybe, she would be sober, lucid. I don't know. And really, I will never know. I'd like to say that it's been a gradual process. I'd like to think that I can pinpoint the exact time my mother became an alcoholic. And I'm pretty sure that I can.

I can recall a happier childhood. I can recall when my mother was beautiful and sober with shoulder length auburn hair like mine and clear, sparkling emerald eyes. I can recall watching her knit as she watched "Day of Our Lives" and talked on the phone with Mrs. McCoy – even though she only lived next door – all at the same time. I can recall watching her peel an apple with ease and grace as she prepared a homemade apple pie from scratch. My mother was warm and caring. I wanted so badly to be the same wonderful mother she was. I followed her every footstep.

I can recall when she and my father were madly in love with each other and they loved me. I can recall a time when Danny and I would argue as to whose parents were more in love – mine or his. We would literally get into shouting matches before we fell to the ground wrestling each other until our parents had to pry us apart. Then our parents would laugh once one of us confessed what we were _really_ fighting over.

I can recall going to the zoo, sitting on top of my father's shoulders as my mother fed me cotton candy as we watched the animals – lions and tigers and bears, oh my! I can recall seeing my dad steal my mom away from the dishes as they impromptu waltzed in our kitchen. I can recall having picnic dinners in our backyard on cool summer nights. I can recall them tucking me in at night and telling me that they loved me. I can recall lots of happy childhood memories. Plenty of days filled with love and joy.

I can also recall when all that changed.

It was the day that all of our lives changed.

It was the day of Mrs. McCoy's funeral.

It amazes me how one person can touch so many lives.

In the days following the funeral, I watched as the people I loved the most in the world changed right before my very eyes.

Mrs. McCoy was apparently the glue that held us all together.

At the age of ten, I watched as my best friend, the one who kissed me behind the swings just months earlier, shrink away from me. He started making a point to never let me get too close to him – physically or emotionally. He was still the same Danny, but his eyes never glowed as brightly as they did before. His actions around me more hesitant, his words more carefully chosen.

I watched my surrogate father, Mr. McCoy, throw himself into his work – virtually neglecting Danny and leaving a scared boy to fend for himself to figure out his grief. I knew that Mr. McCoy loved Danny, but I also I knew that he just didn't know how to deal with emotions. My heart sank as I watched a once close father and son relationship dissolve into almost nothing, saved only by rebuilding Mrs. McCoy's 1969 Camaro SS convertible a few years ago.

I watched my mother slowly become an alcoholic while my father stood back, repulsed by his own wife, but still sticking by her side. My mother going almost catatonic, clutching a can or bottle to her chest as she sat on the couch, staring, but never really noticing what was on the television in front of her. The uncooked meals. The unkempt house. The shouting. The tears. The broken dishes. The constant smell of alcohol. _It's just a phase_, my mother assured me. _I'll be back to normal soon enough_, she smiled.

But things never did go back to normal. As hard as my mother tried, she could not claw her way out of her deep depression. My father and I watched helplessly as my mother slowly spiraled out of control. It was barely a year after Mrs. McCoy's death that my own mother followed. I had come home from school and found my mother in bed, not breathing, with a bottle of pills in her left hand.

Without my mother, I turned to my father. I thought I could always count on him. I thought he was a hero for trying to help my mother. He had fought to the end keep her sober, to keep her happy, to keep her here with us. Even though he lost the battle, he never said an ill word about her. I knew then that my mother truly was the love of my father's life.

Time went on. And he became both my mother and my father. He encouraged me when I was down, praised me when I did right. He patiently took me shopping for clothes until I became old enough to go with friends. He held my hand as I cried over my latest break up. I thought that no matter what, he and I were a team. I was daddy's little girl. He was the greatest man ever and there was nothing anyone could do or say to make me change my mind. But I was wrong.

I look disgustedly at him now, snoring softly on my bed. Ironically, after years of discouraging alcohol consumption to me, my own father staggered home drunk this evening. I knew that today would be a hard day for him, but did not think he would take it _this _hard. Today would have been my parents' twentieth wedding anniversary.

I was still sweaty and sticky from cheerleading practice and had rushed home to prepare roasted chicken with asparagus and risotto for the two of us. I had greeted him at the door, still in my practice uniform, excited about the meal I had just prepared. My brows furrowed slightly at the sight of him. There was an odd gleam in his eye.

We settled down for dinner and he kept touching my leg. I brushed it off, thinking it was just my father showing me affection. I would grab his hand and hold it in mine before bringing it back to the table top. As I was washing the dishes, he slunk behind me and slipped his hands around my waist. Naïve Mary, I brushed that off as well. He was just checking if I had gained any weight, that's all. Nothing more. He knew how conscious I was about my physique.

But then I was in my room, undressing for a shower, when my father walked in unannounced. Shocked, I quickly covered myself with my robe. This wasn't like my father. He had always respected my privacy. Frozen, I was speechless as my father slithered across my room and whispered into my ear how beautiful I was and how much I looked like my mother. Then he untied my robe.

I won't say what happened next. The thought of it makes me nauseous. I've locked myself into my bathroom since then and have taken at least three showers. I've cried for nearly two and a half hours. Upset that I didn't defend myself better. Upset that I let it happen. Danny had taught me how to throw a punch. Why didn't I hit him? Or kick him? Scream? Anything to get him off of me. How could my father do something like that to me? Why would he do something like that to me?

I tear my angry eyes away from him and hitch my backpack on my shoulder. I quietly walk out the front door and into the dark Las Vegas night. Crickets chirp loudly as I cut across our front lawn. It's a clear night with a full moon, so there aren't very many stars to be seen. I breathe in the cool desert air and try to push this night's events away from my mind. I round the corner of our house and I've reached my destination. The most obvious place for my father to find me, but also the safest place for me.

I creep quietly to the still lit window. It's nearly midnight, but luckily, Danny's still awake. I take a deep breath and tap quietly on the glass, praying that I don't wake his father up. The ire of Larry McCoy is something I can live without. Especially tonight. I sneak back into the shadows so no one will see me. It takes maybe fifteen seconds for him to appear, but by the time Danny opens his blinds, I'm gnawing viciously on my thumbnail. Squinting to see me in the shadows, he silently opens his window.

"Hey," he whispers to me, obviously confused.

"Hey," I whisper back as I tiptoe back into the light.

"Are you okay?" he asks me, worry beginning to crease his forehead. He looks across the way to my house, at my still lit bedroom window.

I shrug, trying to look nonchalant, but my backpack weighs a ton on my shoulders.

"Why aren't you studying for the chemistry test?"

I shrug again as he frowns at me. This was not going to be easy. He finally spies the backpack hitched on my back.

"Can I stay here tonight?" I blurt out before he can fire off a round of twenty questions.

A look of panic flashes across Danny's face for a split second, but then he answers, "Yea, of course."

He holds his hand out to take my backpack. I'm thankful he took it, otherwise, I'm not so sure I can stealthily crawled through his open window. Danny offers his hand again to help me stand, but he doesn't let go once I'm standing in front of him. Instead, he envelopes me into a hug. This is truly is safest place I know.

**Friday – early morning**

She starts to shake and cry as soon as I wrap my arms around her. I have no idea what is wrong with Mary. I just sensed that something was off. Why else would she knock on my window and ask to spend the night? And I know it's not going to be like that "spend the night" kind of evening – trust me, I've had plenty of offers from her cheerleading buddies. Not that I've ever taken them up on it. Unlike my other "jock" cronies, _I'm_ not like that and unlike her shallow pom-pom head friends, I know that _Mary_ is not like that. I don't think Mary even knows her friends are trying to seduce me. Like I said – not that they would ever be successful.

I try so hard to protect her from everything – and everyone. Especially me. I know in the end, all I will able to do is hurt her. And I know that she deserves better. Because she is the sweetest, most genuine person you will ever meet in the world. I tell myself I do it because she's like my sister. Truly, she really is like family to me.

But it's difficult to remember that as I wrap my arms around her and I think how perfectly she fits there. Her head fits neatly under my chin. Standing in the middle of my room at a little past midnight, I inhale the smell of her lavender scented shampoo as I stroke her damp long auburn hair. Suddenly I'm ten years old again, getting ready to kiss her by the swings during recess.

I'm back to a time when everything was happy and simpler. My mother is alive. My father rushes home from work to see us. Mary's mother is sober. I'm not afraid of my best friend.

It seems only Mr. Connell wasn't affected negatively by my mother's death – which is not to say that I think that he didn't care about my mother. I see him and I feel relief. I'm just glad that he is there with Mary. That he was strong for her when her mother quickly spiraled out of control and eventually took her own life. That he was there during the darker periods of their family life. That he is there for her in ways that I cannot.

"Why, Danny? Why?" she keeps asking me, lightly pounding a fist into my chest. Every punch produces more violent sobs from her.

It frightens me to see Mary so distraught. I don't like it. I don't like feeling out of control. I have to find a reason. Something. Anything. I have to make her stop crying. If she gets any louder, my dad might hear. And that would be the end of me. Grounded for weeks. No basketball. No dates. No contact with the outside world – including Mary. Game over. Then again, groundings hadn't seemed so bad since Mary had learned how to climb through my window quietly… But that wouldn't matter if my father put bars on my window… that would be a different story. Right. Stop the crying. I do the only thing I can think of – I quickly review what I may have done to hurt Mary. Egotistical? Maybe. But you can never be sure. Females can be so touchy sometimes.

Nothing I've done comes to mind.

"Shh…" I try to calm her as I continue running my fingers through her hair. I kiss her forehead. This relaxes her slightly. Her shoulders slump, the pounding stops and the sobbing subsides. Sweet. I'll have to keep this move in mind the next time I see her upset.

"Why, Danny? I don't get it," she sniffs as she lifts her head from my chest. She roughly swipes at the tears from her face with sleeve of her sweatshirt, but refuses to look me in the eye.

"What are you talking about, Mary?" I ask, genuinely perplexed. I swear I didn't do anything wrong. Nothing to hurt her intentionally, at least.

I release her and sit on my bed. Then I look at her standing in front of me. I finally see her in the dim light. Her face is splotchy from crying. She clearly anxious, she won't look me in the eye and has begun chewing on her thumb again. Her damp auburn hair falls over her shoulders, down to almost the middle of her back. My eyes fall to swanlike her neck. Wait… are those what I think they are? Impossible. I think I see traces of bite marks and some bruising there. I squint as I scan the rest of her body, past the red hooded sweatshirt to her legs. I think I see some more bruising on her thighs, just below the hem of her white practice shorts. I feel dizzy.

"Mary, take off you hoodie…" I whisper.

She smiles sadly at me, still not meeting my gaze. I know that she trusts me and she does so quietly. Standing in front of me in her shorts and a plain white bra, I see definite signs of a struggle.

"Mary, what happened?" I ask her quietly as she begins to sob again.

A million thoughts zoom through my mind. Who did this? Was it one of the football players? I knew she had gone on a few dates with one of them. What was his name… Tom? Rick? John? Damn it all to hell. Whoever it was, they were dead. My fingers instinctively flexed and balled into fists. Someone was going to get a schooling in how to treat a lady first thing tomorrow morning.

"My father raped me, Danny," she said quietly, breaking into my thoughts.

Whoa… what? I'm stunned. Frank Connell? No, there's no way I heard that right. I have to sit down. Wait, I already am. Is the room spinning? No? Okay… in that case, it's time to lie down. Breathe, Danny. Breathe. This is not happening. It's a bad dream. Maybe I have some impacted earwax. My ears are suddenly ringing. Surely she didn't just say what I thought she just said.

"I'm sorry? Can you repeat that?"

She takes a deep breath and says the words louder this time, "My father raped me, Danny."

I don't know what to say. I feel like someone has just punched me in the stomach. I think I'm going to be sick. What kind of person could do this to her? I'm beginning to see red. The ringing in my ears is getting louder. I'm furious. I'm going to… no. I can't let my temper get the best of me. I need to be strong – for Mary. I sit back up and gaze at her with a pained look my face as she silently puts her sweatshirt back on.

"We have to call the police, Mary," I say calmly, though underneath, I am seething with rage and pure unadulterated hate. I _trusted_ that man.

"We can't, Danny. I've already washed away all of the evidence," she sighs as she takes a seat next to me on the bed. She what? No, no, no, no… that must be the ringing my ears again. Perhaps I need to get my hearing checked tomorrow. I swear I keep hearing things wrong tonight.

"What do you mean, Mare? Why did you do that?" I ask, exasperated, praying I misunderstood her.

What the hell is wrong with her? She's just going to let that sick bastard get away with this? Ah geez… the room is spinning again. I have to focus on something or else I'm going to vomit tonight's pizza all over her. I stare into her large brown eyes. Then I see the hurt and pain and anger that's been brewing inside of her. Her face contorts as her eyes narrow into slits.

"Why?" she hisses angrily. "Why would I want to keep the smell of what happened on me? Why would I want that reminder? Why, Danny? Why? Why would I want that? Of course I tried to wash myself clean of it. I want it… gone."

Then I understand. There is nothing I could do for her. Other than beat that asshole into a bloody pulp. But I know that would only upset her even more. Instead, I do the only thing I could do. I put my arm around her.

"I'm sorry, that came out insensitive, Mary," I apologize as her head rests on my shoulder. I kiss the top of her head. "It's just that… now that means we can't press charges against him because we lack evidence. But I guess we can still get him for assault."

"I don't want to press charges, Danny. He's my father," she mumbles.

"He's a monster, Mary," I remind her as I wrap my other arm around her, enveloping her into an awkward hug. "Anyone who could do this to you…" I shudder. "Is truly a wicked, evil monster."

"He's still my father," she says with more conviction. I'm not sure whose benefit it was for – mine or hers.

I sigh. I know I'm not going to win this argument tonight, so I try to change subjects.

"Are you ready to sleep?" I ask softly, still stroking her hair.

Mary shrugs, "Whenever you are."

I smile at her, "You plan on sleeping in that?"

I can feel her giggle softly in my arms. Finally. She lifts her head from my chest and smiles sheepishly, "I guess…"

"You can't sleep in that," I smirk as I release her. I kiss her forehead once more before I walk to my closet.

It takes me a moment to find something clean and suitable for her to sleep in. Dirty uniforms, holey t-shirts… Triumphantly, I dig out an old light blue button up oxford and hand it to her.

"I'll go get a drink of water while you change. Take the bed, I'll sleep on the floor tonight," I instruct her before turning to leave the room.

"Danny?" she asks hesitantly.

"Yea?" I turn to her.

"Thanks," she smiles gratefully.

I give her a crooked smile and nod before slowly opening the door. I pad softly down the hallway, my mind still racing with what Mary had confessed to me. I still can't believe what I've just heard. I feel as though I should tell someone. Anyone. This is a problem I simply cannot fix on my own. I debate whether call the police anyway or if I should tell my dad.

I gulp my first glass of water and promptly slam down a second one. I stand in the dark in front of the sink for a moment, recollecting my thoughts, before I think to bring a glass for Mary. I refill my cup and tiptoe back towards my room. Involving the police is probably a bad, yet correct decision. But it would draw so much attention on her. Lots of _unwanted_ attention. And telling my father would have to be Mary's decision, not mine, I realize. I'd be invading her privacy and breaking her trust if I told him. I'm stuck. I'm at an impasse. I'm almost to my door when the phone rings. My heart stops. I freeze in the middle of the hallway. Who would be calling at nearly one in the morning?

Then my dad opens the door to his room and flips on the hallway light.

"Danny?" he blinks when he sees me standing frozen in the hall, looking guilty, I'm sure.

"Yea, dad?" I try desperately to sound casual. I'm getting a drink of water in the middle of the night, that's normal, right?

"I guess I'm glad you're still up," he says uncomfortably. He shifts his weight, "Have you seen or heard from Mary?"

"Uh…" Crap. Crap, crap, crappity crap.

"I mean, since after school or dinner today?" my dad clarifies. "Her dad just called and he said that she isn't home."

"Uh… Nope, I sure haven't," I lie smoothly. "We had a longer than usual practice tonight and I've been in my room studying for that big chemistry test we have tomorrow since after dinner, so I haven't seen or heard from anyone tonight. I've been locked up."

Satisfied, my dad nods at me, "That's what I thought, but I was just checking. Frank sounded pretty worried, so I told him I would check with you just in case. I told him I was pretty sure she wasn't here and that she's probably out on some date he forgot about." My fists automatically clench at the thought of Mary in a darkened theatre with a dark faceless figure. Or worse, his backseat. "Though I don't think it's like her to stay out like this – especially on a school night," my dad continues to muse. "Well, you better go to bed and get a good nights rest. It sounds like you have a pretty big day tomorrow."

"I will right now. 'Night, dad," I say coolly as I open my door ever so slightly. Must. Get. Visions. Out. Of. Head. What the hell was wrong with me?

"Goodnight, son."

It is only after he turns the light off and enters his bedroom that I go into mine. I peek out the door until I hear him shut his own door. Then I shut mine and lock it. I sigh deeply before turning back around to Mary. Great. She's already found the sleeping bag in my closet and a spare pillow. My eyes lift from my makeshift bed for the night to her.

And the vision of her knocks the breath out of my lungs. My brain stalls. My mouth waters. I can't move. Shit.

"Is everything all right?" she asks, standing in front of my bed, worried. "I heard the phone ring."

My God, she looks great in that shirt. The hem of the shirt barely covers her bottom. She's left a few buttons before her cleavage undone. Breath, Danny! Breath, damn it! It's not like you've never seen her in her bikini half naked at the pool before. But this is… _different_ somehow…

"Um… that was your dad," I garble out as I hand her the glass of water.

"What did you say?" she asks, her brows furrowed again with concern, as she gratefully takes the cup.

"Nothing," I say honestly. "My dad answered. Your dad's looking for you."

She takes a drink, licking her lips when she is done. My eyes gravitate to her mouth. She puts the empty glass on my bedside table.

"Did you tell him I was here?" she bites her lip when she looks at me. I have to look away before I do something stupid. Like kiss her. And not in the same chaste manner that happened many years ago. Damn it! What the hell was she trying to do to me? The devil woman! Was she trying to seduce me? I mentally smack myself. This is Mary, for Christ's sake! No. No. No. No. Get your mind out of the gutter. Don't you even remember why she's even here?

"Who? My dad? Or yours?" I ask, stalling, trying to get my brain to work normally again. Like a sister. Like a sister. Like a sister…

"Either one," she shrugs, lifting the hem of my shirt lift ever so slightly, exposing even more leg. I mentally salivate even more. I'm going to start literally drooling pretty soon. Stop it, stop it, stop it, McCoy. Get your priorities straight right now. This is _Mary_, not some other floozy cheerleader. I glimpse a little bit of a hideously green bruise on her thigh. My lustful thoughts are now replaced with rage. Much better now.

"No. No one knows that you're here," I say crisply, back to focusing on controlling my rage.

She lets out a sigh of relief, "I'll go back tomorrow."

"The hell you are," I declare. "Don't be stupid. You're not going back there as long as I can help it."

Then Mary's face breaks into a genuine smile, "Thank you, Danny."

Then she walks across the room and kisses me gently on my cheek.

"Goodnight," she says as she crawls under the covers of my bed.

"Goodnight," I say as I make myself comfortable on my floor. This was going to be a long night.


	2. Day 02: Complications

**Friday – morning, part one**

I wake up in a daze. My head feels fuzzy and I feel oddly sore. I blink a few times then stretch my arms and legs in bed. I stop mid-stretch. Suddenly, I'm horrified. This isn't my pillow. This isn't my bed. This _isn't_ my room. I pause. This definitely isn't my shirt either. I bolt upright, terrified and gasping for air. I can't breathe. Where am I and what have I done?

Then I remember where I am and relax. I'm in the safest place I could think of – the McCoy house. Memories of last night try to creep into my mind. I desperately push them away. I've cried enough. I don't think I can cry anymore. It just is not possible. To distract my mind, I peer over the edge of the bed to check on Danny.

He's shirtless. I suck in a breath and take a moment to gaze at his sleeping form. One arm is thrown across his face, so I'm pretty sure he can't see me gawking at him. I linger on his tanned torso. His legs are tangled in the open sleeping bag. I catch a peek at his plaid boxers and lick my lips. Suddenly, his arm moves away from his face and he blinks his large brown eyes.

"Morning, sleepy head," I whisper down to him, a blush threatening to spread across my cheeks. Busted.

"Hey," he tries to smile, groaning softly. "I hope you slept all right last night. I know this floor is a lot harder than I ever expected," he mutters as he tries to sit up.

I chuckle softly.

"Seriously, did you? Because I'd hate to think I've got a massive crick in my back for nothing," he grimaces.

My eyes widen in dismay as I remember he has a big game tonight. A wave of emotion washes over me. I'm grateful that he offered me the bed last night, but I am also horrified that I may have ruined his chances of playing tonight.

"I slept great, thanks," I choke out. "Are you going to be all right to play tonight?"

"Mary," he smirks at me. "I'm just messing with you. It's just a basketball game. No one is going to care if we win or lose tonight."

I roll my eyes. "Yea, right. You guys are undefeated and have a chance at going to – and winning the state championship. Of _course_ no one cares."

"It's still just a game, Mary," Danny points out again as he gingerly stands up. "In the end, the results don't mean a thing. No one is going to really care or remember who won or who lost. It's _high school_," He pauses to yawn loudly. "What time is it, anyway?"

I glance at the clock, "Five ten."

Danny frowns, "Unfortunately for you, Mary Connell, I need you to relinquish that bed and hide now. Dad will be here in a few minutes to say goodbye and he would not be happy to find out that I lied to him last night about where you are."

I nod once, quickly tossing the spare pillow back on his bed before crawling under his bed with the sleeping bag as he quietly unlocks his door. He makes sure that the sleeping bag and his blanket covers the space between his bed the floor, hiding me completely before he crawls into bed.

"Ooh… still warm," I think I hear him mumble. "Are you okay down there?" he whispers to me.

"Yea. But I hope your dad comes soon because it is gross underneath here, Daniel McCoy," I hiss as I stare at wadded up gym socks and dust bunnies mere inches away from my nose. "Have you ever thought about _cleaning_ under here?"

I hear him snicker, "Sorry, I've never had a girl come over and spend the night before – much less have to hide her in the morning."

The I blush had been suppressing spreads furiously as feel my heart rate quickens. Then I smile victoriously – so none of my friends have been successful in seducing him after all. The little hateful liars.

"Any minute now…" he whispers.

Then there is a knock before the door slowly creaks open.

"Morning, son."

"Hi, dad."

"Are you feeling rested for your test and big game tonight?"

"I sure am."

"I'll try to make it to the game tonight. It starts at seven thirty, right?"

"Sounds great. Yea, seventy thirty tip off."

"I'll try to be there." A pause. "Hey, Danny…"

"Yea, dad?"

"Keep an eye out for Mary today, will you? Like I said, Frank sounded pretty worried when he called and I know it's not like Mary to go out all night and not come home. Especially if she's not out with you. I've been worried about her all night, too."

"I sure will, Dad. I'm sure she's fine though. She's pretty tough."

"I know you will, Danny. I know you care a lot about her."

Danny is silent, making my heart quicken again. His silence could mean a lot of things.

"I know you love her," Larry McCoy continues.

Danny is still silent. I think I'm going to pass out.

"I do," Danny mumbles.

I want to roll out from under the bed and jump for joy and kiss him.

"She's like a sister to me."

My heart cracks and my elation dies instantly. Did he just say "like a sister?" God, I hope I don't start crying now. Wait, I honestly don't think I can. I didn't think I had any tears left.

Then I hear Larry begin to chuckle, "Someday, son, you're going to change your mind about that. One of these days, that girl next door that you love 'like a sister' is going to grow up right before your very eyes. She'll no longer going to be an ambiguous thing. She's going to become a woman, a force to be reckoned with. The next thing you know. you're going to find yourself wondering what kind of shampoo she uses. What kind of perfume she's wearing. You're going to feel your heart quicken at the mere sight – or even the thought of her. She's going to start dating boys who look like real competition to you. And you're going to get jealous. Insanely jealous. Now, you may tell yourself that it's because those boys are trying to steal your best friend away. Or because their hitting on 'your sister.' But it's really because you wish it was _you_ spending all that time with her. Making her laugh. Holding her while she cries. Being the one that she goes to."

Both Danny and his father are silent for a moment.

"I know. Because that's what happened with your mother and me."

I think I really am going to cry. How do I still have moisture in my body? I thought I dried myself up last night.

"When did you know?" Danny finally asks.

"You'll know, Danny. You'll know."

They fall into a silence again.

"I better get going, son. Seven thirty tip off, right?"

"Yea."

"I'll see you tonight, then. Have a good day."

"See ya, dad."

I hear the door click closed. I don't dare to move until Danny gets out of bed and pokes his head underneath to look at me.

"You all right there, Mare?" he smiles awkwardly at me.

I have to try to act normal. Like I didn't hear the conversation he just had with his father. I'm not sure I can. I think I feel woozy, lightheaded. I don't think I can get my arms or legs to work properly.

"I'm fine," I manage.

"You better get out from under there." I hear Larry's truck rumble on the driveway. "You can shower first. I gotta figure out a way to sneak you out of this house without anyone seeing you."

"I'll call my dad and tell him I'm staying with Caroline," I say as I crawl out.

"Is he really going to believe that?" Danny asks me skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

I shrug, "Maybe. Maybe not. More than likely yes, though. I usually spend the night there on Fridays, remember?"

Danny frowns, "Why not just stay here with us?"

It's my turn to frown at him. "Because I don't think Larry would approve," I tell him.

"Mary…"

I sigh, "I don't know, Danny. I don't want to think about it now."

He steps forward to hug me, but I don't think I can stand his touch right now. Not after the exchange I just heard between him and his father. So I bend over and grab my bag.

"I'll make breakfast when I'm done," I say firmly, keeping my emotions in check. "Are pancakes okay?"

"I love…" Danny starts. I feel my heart flutter, but quickly squash the hope I feel building inside me. "…pancakes."

I smile sadly and nod before opening the door to the hallway. Stupid Mary. What where you hoping he would say?

**Friday – morning, part two**

I love pancakes? What the hell was that? Pancakes! Could I possibly have said anything lamer than that? I mean seriously… pancakes? That was the best I could do? What the hell is wrong with me? I have more game than that, don't I? Wait. Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa…

She's Mary.

She's Mary Connell from next door. The same Mary I've known her since we were in diapers. The same Mary I kissed behind the swings seven years ago _on a dare_. Because Greg _dared me._ The same Mary who held my hand during my mother's funeral. The same Mary I cannot have. The same Mary will not _allow_ myself to have.

I heard what my father said to me this morning. I couldn't believe how true his words were, particularly since last night. But I refuse to let it happen to me. I cannot let Mary get that close. I _will not_ let Mary get that close. Look at what happened to my father when my mother passed away. I cannot let that happen. I _will not_ let it happen. I refuse. Mary will always be my friend, my best friend. But I cannot let her be anything more to me. I just cannot do it. Because I couldn't deal with the hurt and pain if I ever lost her.

Frustrated, I decide to make my bed – which means throwing my comforter on top of the bed, hiding everything. Then I remember Mary's comment. Surely, she was only exaggerating. I push the sleeping bag out of my way and poke my head under there. Dust bunnies and dirty gym socks, indeed. I curse her for being right and begin to clean under my bed. I'm so engrossed in the project that I don't hear her return to the room.

"What are you doing?" she asks me.

I slither out from underneath the bed and the air is knocked out of my lungs when I see her. Damn it again, devil woman! She's standing in the middle of my room wrapped in nothing but a towel. Her hair is still wet and hangs loosely down her back. The bruises are still on her neck, but my imagination is running ramped with impure thoughts instead of rage.

"Uh…" I gulp.

"Are you actually cleaning underneath your bed?" she asks incredulously, her jaw dropping in surprise.

"Kind of," I admit sheepishly.

Her face breaks into a full blown grin. I feel my heart rate quicken as she smiles at me, "That's very sweet of you, Danny."

Breathe, McCoy. Breathe. You've seen her smile before. Quit being a jackass.

"No problem," I try to shrug noncommittally.

She clears her throat as she shifts her weight, "I hope I left you enough hot water."

Oh God, this is awkward. Snap out of it, McCoy. You've suppressed these feelings for seven years now. Why are you being such a putz now?

"I'm sure you left plenty," I assure her.

There's an uneasy silence. Then I realize that she's waiting for me to leave the room so she can get dressed and get ready for school.

"Yea… I better let you get ready…" I say before I exit the room.

I amble down the hallway to the bathroom. It smells… girly. Not bad. It's just an aroma I haven't smelt since my mother died. It's comforting. I have no idea what it is. Mary had carefully packed up her belongings, leaving absolutely no trace that she was there. I have to find out what that smell is.

I turn on the shower and strip out of my boxers. I let the warm water wash over me, loosening the crick in my neck. My mind is racing. I have to figure out a way to hide Mary without raising red flags at school or with her father – or mine for the matter. I have no idea how long I'm going to have to hide her for, either. Though I wouldn't mind hiding her with me forever.

Damn it, Danny. She's not yours. She deserves better than you. She deserves someone who's not afraid to love her. Why are you trying to ruin a perfectly good thing?

A chill runs down my spine. Fantastic. I'm running out of hot water. Maybe this will do me some good. I lather up quickly but continue to stand under the freezing spray. Basketball. Chemistry test. Barbara Bush naked on a cold day. Anything to get my mind off her and the sight of Mary in just a towel…

I have no idea how long I stand under the cold water. But my teeth are starting to chatter. I turn the water off and dry myself. I walk back to my room with a nothing but a towel around my waist. Two can play this game, I smirk. I knock, but there is no answer. When I open the door, I see that it's empty. Then I hear the front door creak.

Oh crap.

I throw on what are hopefully a clean pair of boxers and t-shirt and run for the front door. I pray it's not my dad. Then I thank God when I see that it's Mary in the same sweatshirt and shorts she wore last night with a large bag.

"Did anyone see you?" I ask frantically as she shuts the door.

A clearly startled Mary jumps and lets out a small scream.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you," I apologize as I step forward to help her with her bag.

She takes a deep breath before answering me, "My dad's already gone to work. I just ran over to grab a few things and leave him a note saying I'm going to stay with Caroline for a while." She shrugs, "At least for tonight."

I nod as I grab the bag. Good God, this thing is heavy.

"What the heck is in here, Mare?" I could help but chide her. It was safe. Normal. Like nothing has changed.

She frowns at me, "Just a few essentials."

"Like what? Your entire bedroom? Geez. Are you moving in?"

"Shut up, Danny," she glares at me.

I grin at her to let her know I'm only trying to get under her skin. She growls as she punches me on my arm.

"Go get dressed and I'll start breakfast," she finally beams at me.

"Yes ma'am," I salute before I lug her bag back to my bedroom.

Not thinking, I grab the shirt laying on my bed and throw a gray sweater on over it. I slip into a pair of jeans and shove my feet into my faithful Doc Martens. I carefully pack my uniform in my gym bag and grab my backpack, but leave my chemistry book out. I trod back to the kitchen with the book in hand with hopes of cramming last minute.

"Did you study for our chem test today?" I ask her casually as I take a seat at the counter.

"A little," she shrugs as she checks the heat of the pan on the stove.

"How hard do you think it'll be, partner?" I ask carefully.

She shrugs again as she starts pouring the batter onto the griddle, "Probably no harder than it has been all this semester." Then she turns to me, "Why? Are you worried? Aren't you passing anyway?"

"Barely," I mutter. "I bombed the last test, so I barely have a C minus right now."

She wrinkles her forehead in concern. "Daniel McCoy, why didn't you tell me? I could've helped you study last night," she scolds.

"I had more important things to worry about last night," I gently remind her. Not to mention the major distraction of you in my shirt, too, I think.

Her mouth turns into a brief frown before she opens her mouth again. "Thank you for everything, Danny," she says, a blush creeping across her cheeks, as she turns back to the stove.

"You're welcome," I mumble as I bury my nose into the textbook.

There is finally a comfortable silence between us as I study and she makes breakfast. It weird. Something about this feels so… right. It feels _natural_. I'm not even really studying now, I'm barely looking at the text on the page in front of me. I suddenly feel so _at peace_ with this feeling. Maybe I can be good enough for her. May I _am_ good enough for her. Maybe this _could_ happen. I come back to reality when she places a plate full of pancakes, eggs and bacon in front of me. My eyes bulge at the amount of food on my plate.

"Geez, Mare. Are you planning to feed a third world country this morning?"

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, Danny. Eat up," she commands. She's already starting to clean up the kitchen around her.

"Don't clean too much," I warn her. "Dad doesn't know you're here. He'll get suspicious if this place gets _too_ clean."

She throws another grin my direction as I dig into my breakfast. It's delicious. I can barely recall the last time I had a breakfast like this at home. I usually have to get this at the diner after a game or the rare Sunday morning my dad takes me out.

"Aren't you going to have some?" I ask as Mary trots back towards my bedroom, pans cleaned, dried and already put away as though they were never used.

"No time," she calls back. "I have to get ready. Besides, I'll look fat in my uniform if I eat all of that."

I laugh. It's hard to imagine Mary having fat anywhere.

I'm washing my plate when she strolls back into the kitchen. She is wearing a turtleneck with her cheerleading uniform and thick nude colored tights. Her red hair is dry, curled and thrown into a neat ponytail. She looks normal. Like nothing traumatizing happened. Like a monster never touched her.

"Ready for school?" she smiles at me as she hoists her backpack on her shoulder.

**Friday – evening**

He looks so relaxed, so at ease as he shoots hoops with Greg at the arcade. The heat of hundreds of little bodies is getting to them early. Danny sheds his gray sweater and adds it to the growing pile of clothing between them that includes their black and ivory lettermen jackets and Greg's sweatshirt. Danny quickly rolls his sleeves, leaving his shirt untucked. They're standing side by side, in a ridiculously heated competition. They just _finished_ playing basketball.

"Mary."

He's graceful. He's posed. He's calm. He's beautiful. He's… wait. Is he wearing the blue oxford he gave me to wear last night? That shirt looks _awfully_ familiar.

"Mary!"

Look at those arms. Tanned forearms from helping his dad at construction sites during the summer. And I thought that seeing him in only his boxers this morning was hot. I wonder what our children would look like…

"Earth to Mary Connell!"

I feel the soft thud of a stuffed animal on my head. What the hell was that for?

"What do you want, Caroline?" I ask perturbed, unwillingly tearing my eyes away from Danny. Why is she looking at me with so much fury in her eyes? What have I done now?

"Mary Connell, did you even hear a word I said?"

I rack my brain. I don't know. Did I? What has she been babbling about for the past I don't know how long? Oh yes, she's probably on the same topic she was on since we stepped foot inside this place.

"We're going to go shopping tomorrow after breakfast for dresses. Got it. I'm all for it," I answer, praying she hasn't changed topics. I seriously doubt that she has though.

Caroline nods her blonde head, "All right, then."

Good. Now shut up and let me go back to enjoying the view.

Greg, Caroline, Danny and I decided to change our Friday night ritual a little tonight. Since our freshman year, we would all go to the diner after a game, win or lose. Caroline and I would roll our eyes at their adolescent antics and gasp at the amount of food the two boys could eat. We might meet up with some other classmates later on at a party if we won, or go our separate ways if we lost. But since we – though Caroline and I personally had nothing to do with it – trounced our rivals 98 to 76 tonight, we decided to celebrate by hitting the arcades on the Strip instead tonight. Our first stop is the Circus Circus Midway Carnival and we're still here. I have no idea how long we've been here, but so far, Greg has won a medium red bear for Caroline. And I have a feeling that we're going to be here until Danny settles the score. So much for making it to Excalibur before curfew.

"So when is Danny going to pick you up?"

Huh?

"What do you mean?" I ask her, perplexed. "Picking me up for what?"

Caroline rolls her eyes at me, "Duh, Mary… Sadie Hawkins is next weekend."

Crap. I totally forgot about that.

"Um…" I stall.

Caroline's eyes widen in surprise, "Oh my God. You mean you didn't ask Danny?"

"Um…"

"Did you ask someone else?" she squeals, grabbing my arm.

"Um…"

"Who did you ask?" she asks gleefully, jumping up and down.

"Actually…"

Oh God. This is getting awkward.

"Actually, I forgot all about the dance," I admit sheepishly. "I haven't asked anyone yet."

Caroline stops jumping and gapes at me, "Are you serious?"

I wish I wasn't. But I am.

"Yes," I sigh.

"You mean, you haven't asked Danny?" Caroline sputters.

"That's what I just said, Caroline."

"Are you serious? I mean… Well, I wouldn't worry about it," Caroline assures me, patting my arm. I hate it when she does that. "I know none of the girls have asked Danny. We all just assumed you two were going together."

I smile faintly as Greg and Danny walk towards us, laughing and shoving each other playfully. Danny hands me a large hot pink bear.

"For you," he grins widely as he elbows Greg.

"Thanks," I say, breaking into a genuine smile as I take it from him.

"So Danny, who are you going to the dance with?" Caroline suddenly grills him.

Traitor. I want to die. Melt into the floor. Disappear. Be anywhere but here at this moment.

Danny blushes slightly, "Um…"

"Cause Mary doesn't have a date yet if you don't," Caroline continues.

I stare at her with my mouth hanging wide open. I'm going to kill her. Strangle her. Shoot her. Beat her. I can't believe I call this girl one of my best friend at times. That… bitch.

There is no way Danny doesn't have a date yet. He's the most popular boy in our class. Surely someone has asked him by now. Just because we have this unspoken agreement doesn't necessarily mean anything. Besides, surely he's already said "yes" to… someone. Some blonde haired, big breasted, tanned nitwit – probably someone on the squad with me. Oh God, I can't handle this embarrassment right now. Not here. Not in front of Caroline. The entire school will know by tomorrow morning that Danny turned me down. I can't do this. I have to stop this.

"Maybe I don't want to go with Danny," I blurt. Huh? What am I saying? "Maybe I was going to ask Greg."

Smooth, Mary. Real smooth. Why in the world did I say that? What the hell is wrong with me? Of course I want to go with Danny!

I think I see a flash of pain in Danny's eyes before he says, "Well, here he is. Ask him."

My heart is breaking. No, not again. I can't handle anymore tears today. No, Danny, I plead with my eyes. I want to go with you. Please don't make me ask Greg. I don't want to do this. Not here. Not now. Please, Danny. Look at me…

But we're all right here, right now. Caroline is looking at my expectantly. Greg is shifting his weight uncomfortably. Danny is refusing to look at me. Suck it up, Mary, I tell myself. You made your bed, now you have to lie in it. I take a deep breath.

"Greg…" I start calmly. "Will you go to the dance with me?" I finish quickly, amazed that the words came out coherently.

Greg glances over to Danny, who I think is glaring at us right now. His eyes have narrowed slightly and jaw is clenched. I can see him grinding his teeth slightly. If looks could kill.

"Uh… Can I get back to you, Mare?" Greg fumbles.

A wave of relief washes over me as I smile, "Sure. No problem, Greg."

This gives me time to talk to Danny about this in private tonight. Oh wait. I'm spending the night at Caroline's tonight. I won't get a chance to talk to him until tomorrow afternoon - or worse, night. Oh God, maybe not until very late. He'll definitely have a date by then if he doesn't already. Stupid, stupid Mary...

"Thanks, Mare," he says as he squeezes my hand. Then he kisses me on my temple.

I think Danny's head may explode, but I'm not sure why. He keeps opening and closing his fists.

"Ready to eat, McCoy?" Greg asks, letting go of my hand and punching Danny on the arm lightly.

"Yea," Danny says crisply, as he leads the way to the Pink Pony Cafe.


	3. Day 03: Misunderstandings

**Saturday – late morning**

Damn her.

Damn her, damn her, damn her. Damn her for… for making me feel like this. Damn it. No, not really. How could I possible want to damn her? How could I possibly want to induce any sort of harm to her? It's not her fault I'm not good enough. It's not her fault she couldn't possibly want me. It's not her fault I covet the one thing I cannot have.

But how _dare_ she make me feel like this.

Like a fool. Like an idiot. Like a stupid lovesick puppy. This is ridiculous. This is maddening. This is _insane_. She's just Mary for crying out loud! The same Mary who's lived next door to me for the past seventeen years. Just Mary. Mary who… damn it! I need to get that image of her in only a towel out of my head! Argh!

I can't help but groan and flop over from my back to my stomach. Big mistake. There's something different about my pillow. It smells like lavender, just like her shampoo. I inhale the scent deeply. Aw, man… my entire _bed_ still smells like her. I couldn't escape her if I _tried_ right now. Her massive bag is safely hidden in the back of my closet. Plus, the shirt she wore Thursday night is somewhere in there too. Her scent mingled with mine. Everywhere around me in _my_ room is something that reminds me of Mary.

Growling, I heave myself out of bed. There's really no point in trying to stay in bed anyway. I had barely slept last night. My mind kept replaying the same scene over and over again. She asked Greg. Greg. _Greg_. Not me, to Sadie Hawkins. I was so sure we were going to go together. I just assumed that she was going to ask me. We've gone to nearly every dance together since freshman year. Not going together was up until recently, a very, very, very, _very_ rare occasion. It's only happened once.

During our sophomore year. We got into some stupid argument the week before Homecoming and asked other people instead. I asked some brunette on the dance squad and I think some soccer player asked her. It didn't matter in the end, though. We ended up ignoring our dates and hanging out together all night instead as if we had come together.

So that's how rare. We have always been each other's consummate dance dates. It was that easy. I would ask her to Homecoming and she would ask me to Sadie Hawkins. A done deal. But, no. She just _had_ to change it up this year. She just _had_ to ask Greg instead. She just _had _to do it last night. Right in front of me. Heck, right in front of Caroline, the biggest gossip ever. I'm going to have to unhook our phone. Maybe I won't go. That would be simple enough. Done. Easy. Perfect.

No. Not that easy. Though I'd never admit it to anyone, I actually like going to these stupid frivolous high school dances. But only with her. Only with Mary. Maybe it's because she doesn't expect much out of me – which is not to say that I don't try to treat her well. I do. Really, I do. It's just that she's not like other girls. She doesn't expect me to show up on her doorstep with a limo and a dozen roses in my arms. She doesn't want me to take her out to a fancy dinner before the dance. A drive thru McDonald's in my Camaro was fine with her.

"This is stupid," I mutter as I trudge down the hall to the kitchen.

I grab a bowl out of the cupboard and pour myself some cereal. The phone rings shrilly as I shut the refrigerator door. Ah, yes… and so it begins.

"McCoy residence," I say casually, placing the milk on the counter. My bowl is other side of the room. Damn.

"Danny?" the voice on the other end asks.

"Yes," I reply.

"Since when did you answer the phone 'McCoy residence?'" Mary chuckles softly.

My anger at her wanes. I can't help it. How could anyone be angry with a creature as sweet as this? It's like kicking a baby kitten or clubbing a baby seal.

"I don't know," I admit, laughing myself. "I guess it's a new thing. You like it?"

Mary is still laughing, "It's… different."

We fall into an easy laughter for a moment. This is normal. I like normal. Normal is good. Heck, normal is _great_. Then she clears her throat.

"Danny?" she asks hesitantly.

"Yea, Mare?"

"About last night," she starts even more tentatively.

"What about it?" I say, trying to sound indifferent. I don't care. Really, I don't… right? It's just a dumb dance anyway. Disregard whatever I thought earlier.

A pregnant pause falls over the line. It's suddenly so quiet, I wonder if she's hung up.

"Mare?" I ask. I hear her take a deep breath. Then there's silence again.

"Nothing," she finally says quickly. "It's uh… nothing." I feel my stomach drop like I'm on a roller coaster. "I uh… I was just calling to see if you and Greg want to meet us for lunch at the mall later."

Oh. Me and Greg. Of course. Me… and Greg. Greg and myself. Of course. Greg and Mary. Mary and Greg… Aw, geez… is the room spinning again or was it just me? Rooms tend to start spinning on me lately. What is with this anger? They're my two closest friends. So what if they go to one stupid dance together? It's not big deal… Must. Regain. Focus. There, much better now.

"Why don't you call and ask him?" I ask as coolly as possible.

There is another silence, then she sighs, "Caroline and I will be at the food court around two if you want to join us."

I can hear the sadness in her voice and I instantly regret my snarkiness. This isn't fair to her. She has no idea what she's done to incur my sudden immature wrath. She went through hell two nights ago and here I am, acting like some overprotective jealous jackass. Real smooth, McCoy. Way to win a girl over.

No…

Wrong thought. I'm not _trying_ to win Mary over. I'm just trying to get things back into perspective. Back to normal. She's my best friend. Nothing more. I will not let that happen. No matter how much it may hurt me in the end.

"Mary," I start, trying to smooth things over. I've got to apologize to her now for being such a world class jerk.

"Danny, I gotta go," she says softly. "Maybe I'll see you later?"

I swallow hard. This is stupid. "Of course you will, Mare. Bring your stuff with you. I'll bring you back here afterwards."

She doesn't say anything. I wish I could take back whatever I said or did to that made her sad.

"Bye, Danny," she simply says before I hear the soft click of the phone being put back into the cradle.

Damn it.

Then the phone rings again. I smile. Perhaps there is hope yet.

"Mary? I'm really sorry about-"

"This isn't Mary," the voice cuts me off.

"Oh… I'm sorry," I stutter. Jackass. "Who is this?"

"It's Emily."

"Oh… uh… hi." Why is one of Mary's cheerleading friends calling me? I didn't even know she had my number. "What's uh… what's going on?" I ask lamely.

"Oh… nothing," she breaths. "I heard some interesting news about you this morning, though."

Ah… and so _now_ it begins.

"I heard that you're not going to Sadie Hawkins with Mary," she purrs.

Doesn't anyone have anything else to gossip about? What is with everyone's fascination with Mary and my relationship? We're friends. Big deal.

"That seems to be correct," I admit. I look longingly at my bowl of cereal, sitting untouched on the counter, just beyond my reach. My stomach rumbles. I have to eat. I have to get off this phone.

"Really," Emily muses. I can almost hear her protract her claws. Will she get to the point already? "So… that means that you're free that evening?"

Duh. Didn't I just say that? How dense can you be? There's no way she made it this far in school on her brains. I scowl. It is too early to be this annoyed. Especially on an empty stomach.

"That seems to be correct," I repeat. Maybe if I can stretch the cord to its limit, I can reach my breakfast. You don't know if you don't try, right? I take a deep breath and take tentative steps across the room.

"So would you like to go with me?" she murmurs seductively.

But I'm not paying attention. I'm too busy stretching the phone line taut, wary of accidentally pulling it out of the wall. The phone is at least four inches from my ear. I. Want. My. Breakfast.

"Yea, sure," I grin triumphantly as my fingers make contract with my bowl. "Whatever you say."


End file.
